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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487523">louder than words</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/heure_doree/pseuds/heure_doree'>heure_doree</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>30歳まで童貞だと魔法使いになれるらしい | Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! (Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adachi still has insecurities, And Kurosawa needs to be protected at all cost, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Day</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:20:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/heure_doree/pseuds/heure_doree</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“The warmth that spread through his entire body every time they accidentally touched, the joy of sharing secret smiles across the office, the unadulterated fondness that filled his eyes whenever someone mentioned Adachi’s name in passing… All of that served to remind him of the depth of their feeling, but also of his inadequacy and awkwardness.”</p><p>or, Adachi feels the need to show the extent of his affection but doesn't really know how.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adachi Kiyoshi/Kurosawa Yuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Cherry Magic - 31 Days of Prompts Can Turn you into a Wizard!</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>louder than words</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The 31 Days of Prompts for Cherry Magic started today and I wanted to write something for these cute little beans.<br/>It was done in one sitting so. Yeah. But I still enjoyed writing it and I hope you will enjoy reading it too.<br/>I also hoped I didn't insult Japanese culture in any way... If anything is amiss, please let me know.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the 25th, after he managed to escape Kurosawa’s claws (read: <em>grabby hands</em>) - reluctantly, but no one needed to know that -, Adachi set off on his quest for the day, feeling both nervous and excited. Everything felt unreal. He wasn’t even sure that yesterday - the fireworks, the kiss, the proposal - and this morning - the soft “Merry Christmas” that tumbled out of Kurosawa’s lips, the arms of his boyfriend (it sent a tingle down his spine) firmly tied around him as if afraid to let him go - and everything that happened in between weren’t actually part of a very elaborated dream of his. He couldn’t help but giggle in the subway as the fresh memories kept replaying in his head so much so that he almost missed his stop. He stumbled out of the wagon awkwardly, bumping into two or three people on the way, and took a deep breath once he regained his footing on the platform. <em>Focus, Adachi. You are on a mission. No distractions.</em></p><p>Once out of the station, Adachi walked purposefully towards his destination, turning left and right with confidence, despite never having been in that part of town before. Not keen on relying too much on his cellphone, he had memorized the map this morning - or so he thought. He took a few wrong turns, ended up walking three times in front of the same coffee shop before he realized he was running around in circles, and was tempted to drop everything there. Some of those self-deprecating thoughts he used to have - and will keep on having for a while until everything just sets in - crept up in his mind. <em>Kurosawa deserves so much better. I cannot even accomplish this simple task. I am a failu-</em> But then another voice pushed through, overpowering his own yet soft, reassuring, like a comforting hand on his shoulder, fingers combing through his hair, a tight warm hug. <em>I believe in you</em>. Adachi took a deep breath and opened his eyes again, one after the other; he gasped when he realized his feet had taken him right where he needed to be. As if by magic, he thought to himself before chuckling lightly. He was pretty sure that some of it was still right there, buzzing under his skin and making his blood sing.</p><p>Adachi stepped foot inside the small stationery store, a family business that had been established more than three generations ago. There was a short elderly lady behind the counter who welcomed him with a smile that turned her eyes into half moons and made her look at least 20 years younger. He felt immediately at home. He bowed respectfully, a light flush dusting his cheeks, and started perusing the small but charming selection of <em>nengajos</em>.</p><p>“All the designs can be personalized!” A petite woman appeared at his side, beaming at him with the same smile as the elderly lady. She reminded him of Fujisaki-san. Eager to help, lively, and a bit cheeky. “Sir?”</p><p>Adachi fumbled and stuttered. “Oh yes. Thank you. Um… I- I would like to send one to a… special someone.” He didn’t know it was possible but the woman's face lit up even more. “You came to the right shop! We don’t see a lot of young people these days. Right, grandmother?” The old lady nodded absently, probably used to her granddaughter’s overflowing energy. “People prefer sending online cards. From me to you, I always found them too impersonal.” She was looking at him intently, obviously expecting some type of reaction from him. Taken aback and overwhelmed, in a good way, by her bubbly personality, Adachi simply nodded, feeling like it was an appropriate enough reaction. She clapped her hands, satisfied, before folding them behind her back and leaning towards her client - or prey? -, a glint in her eyes. “Now. Tell me everything.”</p><p>30 minutes later, Adachi stepped out of the store with a bag held firmly in his hand and the feeling that all his secrets had been laid out in the open. Truthfully, he hadn’t said much. But it had been enough for both the young woman to smile softly, understandingly, at him and for the elderly lady to squeeze his hand lightly before he left. He had mentioned a scarf, a bento, a pen, and the warmth of his love for Kurosawa had filled the room.</p><p>On his way home - <em>home</em>, he liked the sound of that -, Adachi stopped at the Post Office. <em>Mission accomplished</em>.</p><p> </p><p>******</p><p> </p><p>Adachi had gone back to his flat for his <em>oosoji</em> before New Year - a good spring cleaning for a fresh new start. Plus, ever since his “misadventure” with Kurosawa, the little studio had become a disaster zone. The laundry was piling on a chair, the dishes in the sink and the dust on the floor. He brushed, and scrubbed, and cleaned areas that he didn’t know actually needed to be cleaned, all to distract him from the fact that he had sent a card - was it too simple? Would Kurosawa tire of his shyness and lack of confidence? Adachi couldn’t help but have doubts. Though he knew by now it was not a dream, he still felt relief when Kurosawa welcomed him with one of his precious smiles. The warmth that spread through his entire body every time they accidentally touched, the joy of sharing secret smiles across the office, the unadulterated fondness that filled his eyes whenever someone mentioned Adachi’s name in passing… All of that served to remind him of the depth of their feeling, but also of his own inadequacy and awkwardness.</p><p>Adachi oscillated between these two states of mind for the four following days. They spend December 31st together. He spilled wine on the white table cloth, tripped on the living room carpet, and choked on his toothpaste when Kurosawa sneakily kissed him on the cheek. Nervous didn’t even begin to cover it. That night, however nicely tucked under his lover’s chin and wrapped securely in his arms, sleep still eluded him; it wasn’t until about 2 or 3am that he finally fell asleep.</p><p> </p><p>******</p><p> </p><p>Adachi woke up to the sound of the doorbell. He turned around, searching for the warmth of his boyfriend’s body with his hand, but the other side of the bed was empty. He let out a groan and sit up slowly. His hair was sticking out, making him look like the cutest of scarecrows, his mouth was dry, and his back cracked ominously when he stretched from side to side. He tried calling Kurosawa’s name but no sound came out. Ugh, must have slept with my mouth open again. He was tempted to flop back on the mattress to burrow his head in the pillows when everything eventually fell into place. <em>January 1st. Doorbell. Postman.</em> Adachi stood up quickly - and probably pulled another muscle in the process - and ran out of the room, almost face-planting because, of course, his feet got caught in the comforter. He slowed down when he reached the living room. Kurosawa was sitting at the breakfast table, the newspaper neatly folded on the side, and was focused on the card he was holding in his hands. Adachi’s heart was pounding in his chest. He was holding his breath. He could see his boyfriend’s eyes going over the words over and over and over again, and he was frozen to the spot. He felt something akin to shame creep up his spine. He was about to leave quietly when Kurosawa spotted him.</p><p>“Adachi.” He stood up slowly, approaching his shy boyfriend as you would a small animal. Gently, careful not to frighten him. “You-” His voice was a bit strangled. “You sent this.” Kurosawa was holding the card towards him. The drawing was simple but elegant, reminiscent of older painters. Two figures seen from behind, one slightly taller than the other, both with greying hair and sporting matching blue kimonos, walking together, hand in hand, towards the sunset. And underneath, written in Adachi’s neat handwriting, a simple question.</p><p>Adachi averted his eyes but nodded. It was disturbing, not being able to know what Kurosawa was thinking. His eyes were tightly shut and he was muttering to himself as in prayer when he was suddenly yanked forward. He crashed into the other man’s chest as he felt one arm snake around his waist and the other one hold the back of his head. <em>Just like on Christmas Day</em>, Adachi’s mind supplied. He automatically wrapped his own arms around his boyfriend, one hand fisting the hem of his shirt and the other splayed on his back - he could feel him tremble beneath his hands.</p><p>“K- Kurosawa?” No answer. The silence stretched for a few more seconds - that truly felt like hours - before Adachi heard a sharp intake of breath. He also became aware of strange sort of dampness on his neck and shoulder, seeping through his shirt. Panicking, he untangled himself from the strong hold pinning him to the spot but there was little give. He pushed a bit more but Kurosawa kept his head angled low to the side, his arms still loosely wrapped around Adachi. Gently, softly, the same way his lover had approached him earlier, he tipped Kurosawa’s chin up. “Talk to me.” He cupped his face in his hands and caught the tears as they were falling.</p><p>Kurosawa took another deep breath, cleared his throat, and took Adachi’s hands. He brought them up to his mouth and peppered them both with soft fluttery kisses; his gaze was fixed on Adachi’s face, now a pretty shade of flustered red. Once he was satisfied every bit of skin had been covered, he lowered their hands and intertwined their fingers. They had never held hands like that - it was a whole new level of intimacy Adachi was surprisingly comfortable with. It just fit. so right. The final piece of the puzzle. The one thing he had been too cowardly to do.</p><p>“Yes.” Kurosawa’s voice was barely a whisper. A soft giddy smile was now gracing his lips. He bumped their forehead together, the last of his tears now completely dried out. “Yes, Adachi. I will let you hold my hand, as I will hold yours. Forever.”</p><p> </p><p>Later that day, on their way to the temple, surrounded by all these people celebrating the possibilities of a new year, he was the one who grabbed Kurosawa’s hand. Who intertwined their fingers. Who brushed the back of his lover’s hand with his thumb. Who dropped a quick kiss on his knuckles and laughed when the other man got flustered, for once. And Adachi could not <em>say</em> “I love you” yet. But it was as good as.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>- nengajos are basically New Year's cards that you need to post by December 25th so that they can be delivered on January 1st. For more information, you can look at this website: https://savvytokyo.com/need-know-japans-nengajo-new-years-cards/<br/>- oosoji is the equivalent of a spring cleaning that you do right at the end of the year to welcome the New Year.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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